


Lying In The Bed You Made

by Sixthlight



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Community: theoldguardkinkmeme, F/F, F/M, Joe & Nile are art buddies, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Polycule Shenanigans, Queer Families, comedy of manners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27011188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sixthlight/pseuds/Sixthlight
Summary: Prince Nicolò is marrying Lady Nile for the good of the kingdom, and everybody has to make the best of it. Or: wlw/mlm solidarity is conspiring with your boyfriend’s wife’s girlfriend to help them produce a royal heir.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Nile Freeman, Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Nile Freeman/Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Nile Freeman/Nicky | Nicolo di Genova
Comments: 50
Kudos: 683





	Lying In The Bed You Made

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in – you know what who knows it’s a fantasy land where people talk like it’s the English Regency but the politics are more sixteenth-century Italy except with the religious diversity of eleventh-century al-Andalus I DON’T KNOW I JUST WORK HERE. 
> 
> Re: the dubcon tag - this fic is partially about a lesbian and a gay man who are figuring out how to have a baby for the sake of their duty as royals. Everybody involved is consenting and in secure, happy relationships with other people, but if this is Not For You, fair warning.

Yusuf was sitting in the rose garden sketching when he saw Lady Nile approaching. It was a fine warm day in early summer, and he had known the odds of being here undisturbed for more than an hour were low; nevertheless, Lady Nile was perhaps the _last_ person he wished to speak with right now. He looked around, but the garden was hedged in, and there was nowhere to go without making it obvious he was snubbing her. He sighed internally, and put down his pencil.

“My lord,” she said. “I see you are busy, but may we speak?”

“Only sketching,” Yusuf said.

“Art is a worthy pursuit, and not _only_ anything,” she said, seating herself a little way along the marble bench. “I wish I were left alone to my own work more often, so please believe me, I am not disturbing yours lightly.”

“This is not my work – only my pleasure.”

“Again,” she said, smiling wistfully, “we should not discount the things that give us pleasure. But yes, I know you are Prince Nicolò’s chancellor. Or the kingdom’s, rather.”

“I don’t meant to be rude,” Yusuf said, “but is it proper for you to be speaking with your betrothed’s chancellor, without any chaperone?”

“Lady Andromache is waiting at the entrance to the garden,” she replied promptly, “and I am thought to have a very good set of lungs, in the unlikely event that I needed her assistance.”

Yusuf held up his hands. “Believe me, my lady, I mean you no harm. It is only – until you are married, for your sake and Prince Nicolò’s, your reputation…”

“I know,” she said, making a very petulant face for a second; Yusuf bit his lip on a laugh. “It is very unfair, don’t you agree?”

“Exceedingly, but unfortunately I don’t make the rules of proper behaviour. If I did, I promise they would be much less rigorous, and much kinder.”

Lady Nile laughed. “I think I believe that.” She fiddled with her reticule. “My lord Chancellor…I am here on my mother-in-law to be’s recommendation.”

“Really?” said Yusuf, who had not been expecting that at all. “Queen Maria advised you to speak to me?” He racked his brain for why that might be. “Is it about the matter of your dowry, and its management –”

“I do want to talk to you about that, since I heard Prince Nicolò leaves all such matters in your hands, but no. She said, if I wished to know my betrothed better, and understand what might come of our marriage, I should speak with you – that you had been great friends since you were young and knew his heart better than anyone.”

Yusuf closed his eyes and counted to ten. It didn’t help. “How…very kind of the queen.”

“You are good friends, are you not?” Lady Nile said, sounding a little anxious. “I thought I had observed it.”

Yusuf kept his mouth shut, and looked away, at the hedge. If he said anything, it was going to ruin – everything, and he owed Nicolò better; he owed even the queen better, as she had supported Nicolò in appointing him to his current role, as his Regent; he simply could not make himself speak. It had been hard enough to watch Nicolò pledge himself to another, two days past. To speak of it to Lady Nile was…too much.

“Please,” Lady Nile said. She put a hand on Yusuf’s, where he was still holding his pencil. “It is – difficult, coming to a new court, and knowing little of what is going on under the surface. I do not mean to be unkind. If there is…anything I should know, that I may not offend later, I beg you tell me. I am not a spreader of secrets.”

“It isn’t a secret,” Yusuf said, his voice sounding rusty to his own ears. “And it would be unkind and more than unkind if you were _not_ told, but I thought Nicolò might…”

“I have not seen him since the betrothal two days past,” said Lady Nile. She took her hand away, but Yusuf turned back to face her, and she was sitting within reach now. “Believe me, I wish to speak with him, but any such meeting, until we _are_ married, will certainly be chaperoned in reality and not in gesture, and I do not think it will lend itself to private conversation. Unless he wishes to work for it.”

“I think I begin to see the queen’s mind here.” Yusuf sighed. “Very well, my lady, if you must have it: the prince is the joy of my life and the light of my eyes; I have loved him since we were boys and I will love him until we are grey; I know he feels the same, as I know the breath in my own lungs; but kings need heirs, and he will not have them from me.” He managed, barely, to bite back _and not for lack of trying_. “And so he is to marry you.”

He expected Lady Nile show some sign of embarrassment, or to hear her utter some protest; even for her to flee the garden. Instead she looked at him with surprise that melted into kindness, and it was worse. Or better. He could not say.

“And you say this isn’t a secret.”

“It is not spoken of casually, but no.” Yusuf gave her a wry smile. “I do not mean to offend by saying this, but we were not very discreet when we were younger, and obviously I am still at court, and favored, so…”

She gave a very un-lady-like snort. “Oh, I can imagine, my lord. We are none of us very discreet when we are that age; it is just that girls are warned against it more strictly.”

“Er,” Yusuf said. “Just so.”

“Well,” said Lady Nile, folding out her fan and waving it briskly; the day was very warm. “That explains a _great_ deal, and it was right of my mama-in-law to tell me, but I really do not see why she could not have told me herself and saved you the embarrassment.”

“I’m not _embarrassed_ ,” said Yusuf, startled. “I merely did not want to upset you, when as you say, you are so new here and do not know the currents under the surface.” And when he did not know if she might have some turn of jealousy, or demand he be sent from court. She would not win the battle, but it would have been unpleasant for everybody if she had been minded to try. He raised an eyebrow. “Besides which, it would be a poor start with the queen to be, to tell her something she might not want to hear. Queens and kings do not do well with that, I find, or at least the king Nicolò’s father did not.”

“They do not if they are _poor_ queens and kings,” Lady Nile said in the forthright tones of someone who had opinions on that subject. “You will forgive my brashness, but I do not intend to be one of those.”

“My lady, you do not seem set for it, based on our brief acquaintance.”

“You are very kind,” said Lady Nile, and gave him an impish smile from behind her fan. Yusuf smiled back and was surprised by how like flirting this felt, except that he did not mean or desire to flirt with her at all, and doubted she did with him. “Which I am glad for; I feel it would be best if we could be friends.”

“I – would hope so too,” Yusuf said, surprised again, but not displeased. “Since we are…exchanging confidences, may I ask – is there anyone you have left behind, for this betrothal?”

“No,” Lady Nile said, glancing towards the entrance of the garden. Yusuf could just make out a tall woman standing by the hedge there. She was dressed as Lady Nile was, in the fashion of the court, but she stood like a soldier. “Nobody I have left behind.” She caught Yusuf’s eye. “But I promise, you need not fear any bastards from me.”

“Then you and the prince are set to have the most remarkably bastard-free marriage this court has seen in some decades,” Yusuf said; Prince Nicolò had five or six siblings, though only he and his older sister were true-born. The old king had not been notably faithful.

“It is my great hope we will deal well together.” Lady Nile put her fan down. “I liked him, in what speech we were permitted to have.”

“Well, I can sing you all his praises if you like, but you know already they will not be an unbiased account.”

She laughed. “I understand. Perhaps another time. May I ask what you were drawing?”

“Certainly,” Yusuf said, and opened his sketchbook; he had been drawing the statue in the centre of the garden. He kept his hand on the page, lest she turn it; despite her equanimity, he did not think she needed to see a portrait of her betrothed without any clothes on.

“You are very good,” she said approvingly. “I enjoy drawing, but my favourite is when I get to work in oils; I have not been able to do it often, as it is considered inappropriate for a young lady. My teacher kept trying to turn me back to watercolors.”

“Oh, watercolors are all very well if that is the effect you intend, but they are not at all a substitute,” Yusuf said, and they had a very agreeable discussion about different mediums of painting for a good quarter-hour; Lady Nile proved extremely knowledgeable in the matter, and seemed more excited about the prospect of overseeing the palace’s art collection than the rank of queen she was about to ascend to. Prince Nicolò would be crowned once he was wed.

It was Nicolò who intruded upon their conversation, with Lady Andromache on his arm. Yusuf had not seen much of her, at the betrothal, among Lady Nile’s companions; she moved like a soldier as well as stood like one, never mind her skirts. Yusuf was fascinated to know the story there.

“Forgive me,” Nicolò said, “but my mother said she had…and Lady Andromache and I thought perhaps we should not leave you both unchaperoned.”

“You mean to chaperone me, my prince?” Yusuf said.

“Well, you _are_ unwed, my lord Chancellor,” Nicolò teased him, and his smile struck Yusuf anew, as it did every day; loving Nicolò was part of his very soul.

“Oh, is _that_ what the queen wanted you to talk about,” Lady Andromache said, with some fascination.

“I beg your pardon?” Nicolò said.

“You know,” Lady Nile said, “I hate to criticize, but you aren’t very discreet even now, you know, Lord Yusuf.”

“We’re not in the habit,” said Yusuf. “Er. We will try harder.”

“No we won’t,” Nicolò said, unexpectedly firm. “Lady Nile, forgive me, I mean you no disrespect in the world, but I think perhaps it is time to tell you that –”

Lady Nile stood. “There is no need, I promise; the Chancellor and I have been having a most fascinating discussion.”

“About oil painting?” Lady Andromache said. “That was the topic I heard.”

“It ranged across many subjects,” said Lady Nile.

“Is that what they call it here,” said Lady Andromache, grinning.

“Andromache, come, I’m sure the Prince and the Chancellor have duties they must attend to, and I have not seen even a quarter of the gardens.”

“If one was looking for a place to have a truly private conversation,” Yusuf mused, “one might try the water garden; the noise of the fountains makes it very hard to overhear anything. And it is at the far end, and almost nobody comes there except the gardeners.”

“And us,” Nicolò said, quietly, but not so quietly that the ladies did not hear him.

“How interesting,” said Lady Nile. She turned to Nicolò. “Your highness; I hope we will have the opportunity to speak, perhaps with…trusted company…before the wedding. I feel there is much we could discuss. I would hate to start our marriage on the wrong foot.”

Nicolò glanced at Yusuf, who nodded. “My lady, I will be sure to arrange it.” He hesitated, for a minute looking younger than his years. “You are…not what I expected.”

“I do not think any of us are what we expected,” said Lady Nile. “And all the better for it.”

“Quite so,” Nicolò said, and kissed her hand. She let him, with a quiet smile. As she walked off, Yusuf had cause to observe that next to Andromache, Lady Nile had a little of the soldier in her gait as well; now _that_ was fascinating.

“Would it upset you, my heart,” Nicolò said, sitting down next to him, “if I said that I liked her?”

“No, love,” Yusuf said, taking his hand. “I think I do as well.”

*

A month later, Yusuf could not say he was looking forward to Nicolò’s wedding, however much he had learned to like Nicolò’s bride. For one thing, he was getting far too many pitying looks from other members of the court. Nicolò’s bastard brother Marco had attempted to offer his sympathies, which had been simply excruciating. For another, he could be intellectually reconciled to the idea that Nicolò would have to bed his new bride, but he didn’t have to _like_ it. Nicolò and he had belonged to each other since they had been fumbling boys. Nicolò was a prince and would be a king and most of him belonged to his court and his country. The way he gasped when Yusuf nuzzled the nape of his neck, the firmness of his fingers when he tilted Yusuf’s chin for a kiss, the way he flushed all down his chest when Yusuf fucked him; those things were for Yusuf and Yusuf alone. No matter how much he respected Lady Nile or even enjoyed her company, he did not want to share them.

“You look almost as unhappy as I am,” Lady Andromache said, sitting down next to him in a very un-lady-like fashion. Yusuf had tucked himself into a darkened corner, away from the crowds; he wondered that she had found him. “May I recommend another glass of wine?” She was carrying a full one herself, and her cheeks were flushed.

“I don’t drink,” Yusuf said, glumly. “It’s haram. Against my religion.”

Andromache looked horrified by this. “In that case I’m going to have another one for you.”

“If you must,” Yusuf said. It was not actually all that pleasant to be surrounded by courtiers soused out of their minds, or the Christian and Jewish ones anyway. Andromache looked at him, and put her glass down.

Nicolò and Nile were still dancing; Nicolò, Yusuf could tell, was putting off the point at which they would be expected to slip away. Lady Nile seemed pleased to oblige him. Lady Andromache was watching them, her face carefully blank. Yusuf searched for the right words. “My lady. Is your attachment of, ah. Long standing?”

“Since Lady Nile came out,” Andromache said, wistfully, not bothering to pretend she did not understand him. “My parents died when I had just reached my majority and I was their only heir; I did not care to marry and nobody could require me to. We always knew she would marry away, but…”

“I always knew Prince Nicolò would have to make a good marriage, too,” Yusuf said. “That is not at all the same thing as liking it.”

“Well, marriage,” said Andromache. “That is as it is. What worries me is that she’s never – I mean, I tried to explain it to her. But…will the Prince know what he’s doing?”

“ _You_ tried to explain it to her?”

“As I said,” Andromache said, smirking at him. “My parents died young, and nobody could make me do except as I pleased, and before I met Nile – anyway, I know what happens with men and women, I promise you, she has had a thorough education, except in the practical. Obviously. As she is a noble maiden.” She wrinkled her nose. “Depending on one’s definition.”

“Oh, well, good,” Yusuf said, wishing he _did_ drink. “Because Nicolò certainly has not.”

“He’s a _prince_ ,” said Andromache. “And now a king. There must have been some willing girl in the palace. I would have expected a lot of them.”

“We have been faithful to each other,” Yusuf said, stiffly.

“Oh,” Andromache said. “ _Oh_. I apologise.” She looked worried. “But that means that both of them –”

“I don’t really want to think about it,” Yusuf said.

“Neither do I,” she retorted, waspishly, “but I don’t want them to be miserable. Well, Nile, mostly, but your prince seems pleasant enough; I don’t wish misery on him either.”

“You just wish he would never lay a finger on your lady.”

“So do you.”

Yusuf sighed, and picked up his own glass, which held a lemon-flavoured cordial; at least he was not forced to drink plain water at these events, unlike at entirely Christian courts he had visited with Nicolò. “A toast to us, my lady Andromache, and our hearts’ desires, which are not suited to our stations.”

“I’ll drink to that,” said Andromache, and did.

This was not a famously debauched court but there was a great deal of celebration, this being the day of both a wedding and a coronation; Andromache fell asleep on Yusuf’s shoulder soon after, and Yusuf ended up carrying her to bed. She thanked him muzzily as she rolled over and started snoring. One of Lady Nile’s maids appeared almost immediately, to shoo him out, a defence he could not but approve of.

He paused after leaving her chamber. On a night like this, he would normally make his way to Nicolò’s rooms; their servants knew enough, and would not question it. Except that Nicolò was married, and the king now, and would not be in his old room anyway. Yusuf could go there, and sleep in the bed they usually shared, but…

He took himself to his own, little-used chamber, and lay awake for what felt like an age in his cold and lonely bed, trying not to think about what was going on elsewhere.

*

He was woken up by a hand on his shoulder, but it wasn’t his valet; it was Nicolò, looking bleary-eyed. “Yusuf?”

“Don’t you have a marriage bed to be in?” Yusuf said, grumpily, because it was barely dawn and he had not slept well, and it was not Nicolò’s fault exactly but he hurt all the same.

“Yusuf,” Nicolò said, looking purely miserable, and Yusuf registered that he was wearing his clothes from the day before, only crumpled as if they had been taken off and then pulled on again hastily.

“I am sorry,” Yusuf said, and Nicolò crawled into the bed and buried himself in Yusuf. With his eyes closed, Yusuf could pretend that nothing had changed at all, and they were as they always had been. Nicolò kissed him on the edge of his jaw. It was so tender Yusuf’s heart hurt. 

“I hope,” Yusuf said after a while, “that your night went…not ill.”

Nicolò started to shake; it took Yusuf some seconds to realise that he was laughing into Yusuf’s shoulder. It sounded somewhat hysterical.

“No?” Yusuf said, feeling a treasonous wave of relief. Literally treasonous, considering the matter at hand.

“Yusuf,” Nicolò said, propping himself up on his elbows and kissing him, “it went perfectly well, in that the lady – my lady wife and I are still in accord with each other, and perfectly ill, in that neither of us proved capable of fulfilling our marital duties.” He grimaced. “I offered to cut myself and stain the sheets; she said that would not be necessary, as everybody knew horseriding is a sure way to lose one’s maidenhead, and she is a notable horsewoman.” He bit his lip. “Of course, at another point she said that…you know those wooden cocks one can buy, as aids to pleasure?”

“I know we have a very nice ivory one in your rooms,” Yusuf said, “and it has aided us in _our_ pleasure many times. But I cannot imagine how that topic…arose.”

“Well, at one point,” Nicolò said, sounding a little hysterical, “she said that she wasn’t afraid because she and – er, the lady Andromache had made use of one, and it had been quite nice, and then she hasted to assure me she wasn’t comparing me unfavorably to it, she just wanted me to know that she wasn’t going to scream or anything. And then I couldn’t even – I am sure she is very lovely, but I was not at all aroused. Though I did end up showing her our ivory one, and she said that was such a good idea, to make them in ivory.”

Yusuf tried not to laugh and then gave up; he shouted with laughter. “Oh, Nicolò, no.”

“It was quite companionable,” Nicolò said, “but not at all what a wedding night is supposed to be.”

“Wait,” Yusuf said, remembering something Nicolò had said earlier. “How are _women_ not capable of…”

“Well, as my mother made Marco explain to me,” Nicolò said, his expression haunted, “when women are aroused, they become wet. And if they are not, it is painful and unpleasant. Like not using oil, I suppose. And Lady Nile was not – we both tried, to ready ourselves, and we simply couldn’t –” He buried his face in Yusuf’s neck again. “I am sorry, I am sorry, I do not think you want to hear any of this, I should not put that upon you.”

“It’s quite flattering, really,” Yusuf said.

“What?”

“Flattering,” Yusuf said, rolling so that Nicolò was on top of him, and placing his hands quite familiarly on Nicolò’s arse. He kissed the tip of Nicolò’s nose, and then the underside of his jaw, and then back up to his mouth. Nicolò kissed him back, with the ease of long practice. Yusuf ran his hands downwards, tugging Nicolò’s legs a little apart, and then kissed his way down, until he could mouth the tender nub of Nicolò’s nipple through his fine linen shirt. Nicolò moaned, and rolled his hips down. He was already half-hard.

Yusuf ran his thumbs along the line of his crack, or what would be if he were not wearing breeches, and kissed him and played with his nipples until he was fully hard, and rocking insistently.

“Flattering,” Yusuf said thickly, pulling away, “because I have always found it quite easy to arouse you, and I thought that was just how we both were, but apparently a part of it is that it is me.”

“It’s always you,” Nicolò said, panting, his eyes bright. They took off his breeches, Nicolò hindering as much as helping. Yusuf took him into his mouth, the familiar warm weight like a balm, giving no quarter; Nicolò surrendered with a shout, and hauled Yusuf up his body after only a moment or two to wrap his hand around Yusuf’s cock.

“It’s always you,” he said into Yusuf’s mouth, “it will always be you, I don’t _want_ anybody else, my heart, my love, Yusuf –”

Yusuf came with a sob, Nicolò licking his own taste out of Yusuf’s mouth, overwhelmed and his eyes wet.

“Nevertheless,” he said, when they were both breathing slower, “at some point…”

“We had a wedding night,” Nicolò said. “The rest…can wait.”

A thought struck Yusuf. “Do you think Nile and Andromache –”

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Nicolò said, as careless as a cat in a sunbeam. “I hope they are having just as pleasant a morning.”

Yusuf chuckled into his shoulder. “Yes; so do I.”

*

Yusuf didn’t see Lady Nile – no, Queen Nile, that morning, but she greeted him very cheerily at court that afternoon, so he suspected that Nicolò had been right. In any case, Nicolò asked him to his new chambers that evening, and Yusuf of course went; and very soon it became a common piece of knowledge around the court that the King’s heart had not suffered any change with his marriage, however beautiful his bride, but that his bride did not seem to be taking it ill, and was properly keeping to the company of her own ladies, so really no complaints could be laid by either party. One did not expect kings and queens to be wed for love, or even loyalty.

However, there were some unexpected changes, as far as Yusuf was concerned.

“Where are the silk ropes?” Yusuf asked Nicolò one evening, as he was searching through their chest of – aids to pleasure, as Nicolò had put it.

“Nile borrowed them,” Nicolò said, absently.

“Huh,” Yusuf said, sitting back on his heels. “Well, that is unfortunate.”

“I am sure,” Nicolò said, his eyes smouldering, “that you can keep your hands where I put them, my lord Chancellor, because I promise the reward for doing so will be entirely worth it.” Yusuf ended that evening coming his brains out with his hands clamped tightly to the headboard and Nicolò buried in him, so that was a promise kept, and Yusuf did not _entirely_ begrudge Nile and Andromache the ropes.

“Those ropes,” Andromache said to him frankly, the next day, “were just what I needed, thank you for the loan.”

“I didn’t loan them, Nicolò did,” Yusuf said, “and I hope you are not planning to tell me any more.”

“Only if you ask about it.” Andromache grinned.

Yusuf clapped her on the shoulder. He had learned that Andromache preferred rougher contact than was seemly for a lady of the court; Yusuf did not mind. “I will not, but my congratulations on your presumably very pleasant evening.”

“Yes,” Andromache sighed, but then her expression turned stern. “We have a problem, though, Yusuf. My lord Chancellor.”

“Considering how this conversation began,” Yusuf said, “I am _fairly_ certain you may call me by my given name.”

“Yusuf,” she said, and sighed. “Yusuf, they have to…the sooner Nile gets with child the better.”

“Ah,” Yusuf said. “Yes.”

“I just don’t – ” Andromache made a slightly rude gesture. “If all else were equal and I wanted a night’s amusement, I’d take him to bed, you know. He seems intelligent and polite; that usually works out. They like each other. And we would not fault them for it. There are much worse bargains.”

“And Lady Nile is very beautiful,” Yusuf acknowledged, “if you care for beauty in women, which I do, although I have never had the intent to pursue one; but Nicolò simply does not.”

“As Nile does not, for men,” said Andromache.

“Well,” Yusuf said. “That…is a problem. I was going to say, although the court is likely filled with too many rumourmongers for it, if there was some man Nile did not mind bedding, I do not think Nicolò would greatly object.”

“As a last resort, certainly. But she would like that even less. At least she cares for her husband’s company.”

“I do not like,” Yusuf said, “discussing this as though they were breeding stock, or could be forced to – could be forced.”

“I don’t like it either,” Andromache snapped, rounding on him, “but your Nicolò is a king; if this goes on too long, there will eventually be calls to put her aside, or his elder bastard-born brothers, who have children of their own, will begin to make themselves known; and Nile is a _good_ queen, she deserves this. I would go anywhere she asked me to with her. I would live in a cottage with her. But she agreed to the marriage, and she did not have to, I promise, and this is the price we all have to live with.”

Yusuf thought about it for a few moments, and a thought occurred to him, what Nicolò had said on the morning after his wedding: _it’s always you_. “What if we…helped?”

“Helped?” Andromache frowned.

“So they were…prepared to…”

“Oh.” Her eyebrows rose. “Oh, I see what you mean.”

“They really just need to…” Yusuf floundered for a polite term; there simply wasn’t one. “If we could…assist them to that?”

Andromache looked him up and down; it would have been flattering in any other context. “I…could live with that.”

“I’m not offering to fuck _you_ ,” Yusuf pointed out.

“You’re offering to be in the same room; it’s almost the same thing.” Andromache smiled wickedly. “Certainly the same thing as far as the court is concerned.”

“The court,” Yusuf said firmly, “do _not_ need to know about this.”

“I hope you trust your servants, then.”

“I do. I hope you trust yours.”

“This is,” Andromache said, “somewhat ridiculous.”

“Isn’t it just,” Yusuf replied, and the dowager queen came upon both of them laughing and wanted to know what the joke was; it was the most awkward conversation of Yusuf’s week, and that included the one he’d had yesterday about raising taxes on the nobility.

*

“You want to what,” Nicolò said, which was not a good start.

“I was talking to Andromache,” Yusuf explained, “and we thought that – really, you and Nile only need to –”

“What if I just can’t at _all_ with women in the room?” Nicolò said. “Then it would just be embarrassing all over again.”

“Then we will never speak of it again?”

“It’s not,” Nicolò said, sighing, “that I don’t like her, or I’m not willing to – one has to do all sorts of strange and faintly ridiculous things, to be King. I simply…do not want to cause her grief.”

“She may say no,” Yusuf said, “in which case we will…put this conversation to one side, and get on with the rest of our business, which is considerable.”

“Alright, then,” Nicolò said. “I will…speak to her about it.” His lips quirked. “Surely the strangest conversation any man has proposed to have with his wife.”

“Surely,” Yusuf agreed.

*

Queen Nile found him in his study, the next afternoon. “My lord Chancellor? A word.”

“Your majesty,” Yusuf said. “At any time, of course.”

She spoke for a good ten minutes of the new royal portrait, which she was proposing to paint herself, and how she would like Yusuf’s assistance with the sketches, if his duties permitted; it would allow her to pose with Nicolò, and complete the oils herself. Yusuf said he was happy to work with her on it. It pleased him to see the queen have a project which was so obviously to her own personal taste.

“And also,” she finished, “Yusuf, I hope we both understand that I do not want to take you to bed.”

“Of course, your – what?” Yusuf said, articulately.

She was looking pointedly out the window. “Nicolò asked me about – and Andromache said that unlike him, you – and I do not object, precisely, but I would like it to be clear –”

“Your majesty,” Yusuf said, in haste, “I think you are as lovely as any woman at court, and I have as much desire to bed you as any woman in court, which is to say none; you know where my heart lies.”

“Hearts and – other things are not always in agreement,” Nile said. “I like Nicolò as much as I had ever hoped to like a husband, although I could not say I love him as a wife. But we are not…that is…” She cleared her throat. “Your help would be appreciated, but only if you are there for Nicolò. You understand.”

“Your majesty,” Yusuf said solemnly, “I don’t have to – you do not have to see me, if you don’t want to. You should not be in the slightest bit of doubt, or discomfort. Your duties are not more important than that. They never could be.”

“That is not what the lord Chancellor should say.”

“Imagine for a moment that I am not the lord Chancellor, and that I am merely Yusuf, who is going to assist you with some sketches, and wishes you well in all things. As a friend, and only that.”

“And that is why,” Nile said, finally turning to look at him, her dark eyes also solemn, “I think we should trial this. But there is enough unrequited love in this court; I would not add to it. I had to ask.”

“I think it’s all _exceptionally_ requited,” said Yusuf, “depending on what you mean by the word.”

Nile grinned, saucily, which he had not expected. “Yes, a fair point. Call it unacknowledged, then.”

“I do not have very much experience in arranging assignations,” Yusuf said, “but this has to be the strangest one ever arranged.”

“Oh, people can always surprise you,” said his queen, “but it is a _little_ strange, yes.” She rose, and leaned over the table to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you, Yusuf. I am glad to have you as a friend.”

“And you also, Nile,” Yusuf said, and kissed her in return.

*

“I feel like we didn’t plan this very well,” said Nicolò.

“We’ve all managed to be in the same room with our clothes off,” said Andromache. “That took enough planning.”

“We got that far last time,” Nile said. Naked, she was rounder than stiff court clothes displayed, where Andromache was lean; they looked very good against each other, dark and pale. “It was just, after that…”

“This was _your_ idea,” Nicolò said, rounding on Yusuf. “So what are we doing?”

“Er,” said Yusuf, because Nicolò had been right the first time: he had not planned this very well.

“Very well,” said Andromache, and put her arms around Nile. “If we could have a little privacy. For five minutes.”

“How?” said Yusuf.

“This bed is truly ridiculous; come over here,” Nicolò said, tugging at Yusuf’s arm.

“Five minutes?” said Nile.

“You know I can do it,” murmured Andromache, and kissed her; Yusuf couldn’t help staring, and then turned his eyes away; it wasn’t for them.

“Oh, hmmm,” said Nicolò, and kissed him. That was easy, and after a few moments, not even awkward; the sounds Nile and Andromache were making faded into a backdrop. Yusuf kissed Nicolò like they had all evening, while Nicolò swung a leg over Yusuf’s and ran his clever hands down Yusuf’s back and along his thighs, one sneaking back up to toy with his balls, deliberately ignoring his cock. It was immediately arousing.

“We’re not trying for _me_ ,” Yusuf breathed into Nicolò’s ear, biting his earlobe.

“I know that,” Nicolò said, perched above him, his half-hard cock brushing Yusuf’s stomach, “but I want you to fuck me. And there is nothing I like better than feeling you get hard for me.”

Yusuf was vaguely aware that Nile and Andromache might be hearing this, and that the idea wasn’t as unarousing as he had worried it would be.

“That doesn’t seem like –”

“I have _never_ ,” Nicolò said, pressing Yusuf back into the bed, “had trouble staying hard with you inside me, when I am unsatisfied, and so if you want to do this…”

He sat down so Yusuf’s cock rubbed between his thighs, an unashamed tease, and Yusuf moaned, and then was startled a few seconds later by what could only be the sounds of Nile coming; he looked over to see Andromache’s head buried between her thighs.

“I told you,” Andromache said, sounding very pleased with herself, and Nile’s response was cut off when Andromache dived back in; she only moaned.

“You _like_ that,” Nicolò said, a little curious, a little considering; he would have felt Yusuf’s cock twitch.

“Come here,” Yusuf said, and arranged Nicolò across his lap, reaching for the oil. He was less careful than he had been at other times; by the time he had two fingers in Nicolò, Nile was curled up in Andromache’s lap, mouthing at her breasts; they were both shiny with sweat and hot-eyed. Yusuf wouldn’t say he was making a show of this, but he had a…complicated mixture of feelings boiling in his chest. Love for Nicolò, always; desperate arousal at the way Nicolò was moaning and writhing in his lap, how much he wanted this; a tiny hot thread of _see, he’s mine, this is what I can do to him_ ; and another unexpected prickle of liking the way they were being watched.

“I hope you have a plan for this,” Andromache said, once Nicolò was really worked up, hitching his hips. If they were alone he would have been demanding that Yusuf fuck him _right this second_ –

“Yusuf is going to fuck me _right this second,_ ” Nicolò gasped, “and then we can tr- try – _Yusuf –_ ”

“Sorry, was there something you wanted?” Yusuf said, now really enjoying himself.

“You heard me,” Nicolò said, and with what looked like a heroic effort of will, got to his knees and turned so his back was to Yusuf’s chest. Yusuf slicked himself hastily, lost in the moment. He could hear Andromache murmuring something to Nile, and Nile murmuring something that sounded like assent.

When he found contact with something beyond Nicolò again – which was not much, because he was balls-deep in Nicolò’s sweet heat, Nicolò sitting in his lap – he found that Nile and Andromache were right there. Yusuf hitched his hips up, as much as he could.

“Fuck,” Nicolò said, drunkenly. “Alright, alright –”

“I can manage it,” Nile was laughing, and she was – she was kneeling up and sinking down onto Nicolò, so they had got _that_ bit right. Yusuf thought he could feel Andromache’s hand in there somewhere. It was just all very – there were a lot of limbs to account for.

“Hnngh,” Nicolò said, breathlessly, and then “I don’t think – I don’t think I’m going to last very long.”

“That’s the _point_ ,” Andromache said, also breathless.

Yusuf hitched up again, experimentally, as much as he could, and saw it rock through into Nile; oh, _oh_ , this was not what he had anticipated at all, much more helplessly intimate than he had intended.

“I already – twice,” Nile said, and bit her lip when Andromache pinched her nipple. “But this is – nice?”

“ _Nice_?” Andromache said, a little indignantly, why Yusuf could not say, and Nile laughed again, and then moaned, because Andromache definitely had her hand on her, near where Nicolò was inside her. It all dissolved into small delicate movements that drove Yusuf wild but weren’t going to let him come, until Nicolò cried out and Nile and Yusuf _nearly_ knocked their heads together but did not, and then Nile was climbing off on tottering legs and Yusuf managed to roll them forward and fuck properly into Nicolò for a few glorious strokes before he lost himself too. By the time he recovered and rolled off Nicolò – this bed really was ridiculously large and God be praised that it was – Nile’s hand was moving furiously between Andromache’s thighs, the two women kissing frantically. That resolved itself a second later, and Nile collapsed onto Andromache, head between her breasts, eyes closed.

“Nicolò,” Yusuf said, and Nicolò said “Hnnnrgh,” again, so Yusuf was the one who had to stagger to his feet for water and cloths. The water was still warm; that was always pleasant. He offered them to the ladies.

“Oh, we should ask for these in my quarters,” Nile said, taking one. She was still short of breath.

“Come on, you great lump,” Yusuf said affectionately to Nicolò, until he took one; Nicolò always preferred to clean himself, but had to be roused to do it. He complained even more if Yusuf did not, though.

“Really,” Andromache said, her eyes still closed, “we should try once more; it was enough trouble to make this happen at all.”

“Hnnnnrrrrrgh,” Nicolò said, and then managed “No. Not any time soon.”

“We’ve got all night,” said Andromache.

“Maybe a nap,” Yusuf said, making himself comfortable against Nicolò.

“Compared to some of the other things that were suggested to me,” Nile said, “as foolproof ways to conceive heirs, this has much to recommend it.” Andromache was petting her braids; Nile was still draped across her. “Andromache, don’t let me fall asleep without my scarf.”

“Mmm, I won’t.”

“Did you come _three times_?” Yusuf had to ask, indelicate though it was.

“ _We_ don’t lose all our stamina after once,” Andromache said, smugly.

“Nicolò made me come three times once,” Yusuf said, “but we were eighteen.”

“Oh, I remember that,” said Nicolò. “That was good.”

“Do you think this counts as an orgy?” Andromache wondered aloud. “I’ve always wanted to be part of an orgy.”

“This,” Nicolò said solemnly, “is the sacrament of the marriage bed and I won’t hear you disparage it like that.”

They were all too tired for loud laughter, but there was a round of snickering that made Yusuf feel like he _was_ eighteen again.

*

The next morning, Yusuf was cornered in his office by James _and_ Sébastien; James was the king’s spymaster and Sébastien the head of his guard, so whatever it was, it was serious.

“You would not believe,” James said, “the word I have had from my agents in the palace about last night.”

“I have no idea what word you have, so please, enlighten me,” said Yusuf. He was wrestling with the taxation question again and it was enough to dull the mood of even the most pleasant evening of love-making.

James counted them off on his fingers, while Sébastien looked on. “That the queen and king have finally spent a night together, which seems unlikely –”

“They are both very dutiful,” said Yusuf, keeping his face carefully serious.

“And that the king is about to send you away from court.”

Yusuf snorted. James raised an eyebrow. “Quite so. That the king spent the night with Lady Andromache, and the queen is about to send _her_ away from court –”

“No.”

“That you spent the night with the queen, see also the king sending you away –”

“Are your agents _drunk_?”

“Some of them, some of the time,” said James. “Or that you spent the night with the Lady Andromache.”

“Now you’re making them up.”

“He is,” said Sébastien. “He didn’t mention the last one when he talked to me. And nobody would care about that.”

“I would care,” said James, “because it would make the king unhappy.” He frowned at Yusuf.

“Nobody is making anybody unhappy or doing anything faithless,” Yusuf said. “You can relax, spymaster.”

“Except for the astonishing amount of adultery going on,” pointed out Sébastien, who was tiresomely happy with his lawful wedded wife, which was all very well if you could manage it.

“Well, that’s not new,” said James, who had served the old king as well. “But my information about the Lady Andromache was really quite reliable.”

“The king is not having an affair with Lady Andromache,” Yusuf said, rubbing his temples. “I can swear to that.”

“I don’t really care who is having an affair with whom,” said James. “Please remind our noble monarch that his wife needs to give him an heir, the sooner the better, and preferably one who resembles him in some regard. He has three older brothers who all have children of their own, and their illegitimacy is going to become increasingly less of an issue if he remains without children.”

“I know,” Yusuf said patiently, “and the matter is being addressed, and _please_ do not ask me any more questions about it.”

Sébastien’s face was scrunched up in a way that said he was trying to interpret that, and failing.

“You can get out of my office now,” said Yusuf, and thankfully they obliged him.

In any event, it was only half a year before the queen could announce that a happy event was expected; a much shorter period than Yusuf had feared. She had a happy glow about her. Yusuf asked her, when they were working on the painting, if she was pleased. “For yourself.”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I always wanted a child, that part I wasn’t worried about.” Her lips quirked. “Andromache doesn’t really suffer from maternal feelings, but she is pleased for me. And what about you, Yusuf?”

“ _I’m_ not having a child,” Yusuf said.

“I think, under the circumstances,” Nile said, “you must take _some_ responsibility for it.”

“Do I have to?”

“I’m requiring it,” she said, haughtily. She was dressed for the portrait and posing while Yusuf sketched, so almost anything came out a little haughtily, in all her regalia.

Yusuf was hampered by being seated, and also having an easel in front of him, but he managed a creditable bow nonetheless. “Your majesty.”

Nile laughed, brightly; an official portrait could not show her laughing, but Yusuf was trying to capture a little of that, how much more beautiful she was when she did.

*

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy. And you know, I might almost miss it,” Nicolò said to Yusuf, lounging in bed that evening, just the two of them. “Andromache still has to show me that knot she used last week.”

“Don’t relax too much,” Yusuf said. “James is going to want a spare as well.”

“The number of people who think they get to have opinions about what goes on in my bed,” Nicolò grumbled, “is truly astounding.”

“You’re the _king_.” Yusuf smacked him with a pillow. “Act like it.”

“Never leave me, wisest advisor and best beloved,” Nicolò said fondly, taking the pillow away and sprawling across Yusuf’s chest. He was only an inch shorter than Yusuf, so it was quite a weight; but Yusuf didn’t mind. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He leant in, and said more quietly in his ear, “We’re going to have a _child_ , Yusuf.”

“Yes,” Yusuf said, surprisingly, astonishingly, impossibly happy. “We are.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this kink meme prompt](https://theoldguardkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/5194.html?thread=1632586#cmt1632586):
> 
> _BASICALLY I'd love an AU where either joe or nicky is a crown prince and the other is maybe a low-ranked lord or otherwise unsuitable suitor. Their relationship is an open secret at court (tho the source of much gossip) and accepted by the Princes' parents with the explicit understanding that their son with marry for an alliance and have heirs, which - a man can't give._
> 
> _No noncon pls, possible dubcon maybe if like the prince doesn't want to fuck his new wife, but understands he needs to?  
>  Also if we could avoid a shrill shrew for the wife pls. she doesn't want to be sold off to an unwilling husband for political reasons either._
> 
> _\+ if joe/nicky have known each other since childhood when the young lord was sent to foster at court when the prince needed boyhood companions_


End file.
